


Homecoming

by beansproutstories



Series: Taekwondon't Touch My Best Friend [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, HEY IM BACK TO WRITE ABOUT SOME JIHAN, M/M, love me some sadness, so much im sorry, this work is very much contingent on Taekwondon't Touch My Best Friend so if you haven't read that, tkdtmbf, you should read that first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-01-07 02:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12223890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beansproutstories/pseuds/beansproutstories
Summary: It's been seven months since that night in Boeun. Mingyu and Minghao are off at college and Jisoo, Seungcheol, and Hoshi are left to try and make something meaningful out of all of the tragedy they've faced. In the midst of the adjustments, someone very close to Jisoo returns to Seoul, and Jisoo cannot, for the life of him, understand why.





	1. Boeun

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT! If you haven't read Taekwondon't Touch My Best Friend, this may be very confusing! TKDTMBF establishes both the setting and important context. This is a follow-up of Jisoo and Jeonghan's journey, which was alluded to and explored a little in THAT story. So you should read that first if you haven't!
> 
> And if you've already read TKDTMBF... well then... sit back and enjoy... Homecoming. :)

Since Mingyu and Minghao were away at college, Nagomi Noodles maintained a pretty quiet atmosphere. Seungcheol and Hoshi would usually come in on days that they didn’t have classes at the dojo, or as Hoshi adamantly calls it, the “studio.” Nobody called it a studio except for Hoshi. Even his dance students called the building “the dojo,” especially the ones who liked to get Hoshi riled up. 

As much as Jisoo liked the peace and quiet in principle, it was a little sad to not have his two regulars out on the back patio every weekday afternoon. Minghao was working diligently through a pre-med major, which kept him pretty busy. As a self-proclaimed perfectionist, there wasn’t much that Xu Minghao would put before his academic performance. The only person to successfully be able to pull him from his studies is Mingyu, and that’s only on a good day. Not to even mention Mingyu, who was balancing a full course load of criminal justice classes, the student council at Seoul National University, co-teaching Seungcheol’s taekwondo classes, and sitting in on a whole bunch of fashion merchandising courses with Minghao “just for fun.” For the two of them, the 30-minute subway ride from Gwanak to Mapo was a big chunk of time out of a busy schedule. Jisoo understood that.

But the change of pace meant that Jisoo had a lot of time just to think. He found himself often lost in thought, especially between meal rushes when the store was empty and he was alone. He would usually make himself some tea and sit out on the back patio. Sometimes he’d bring something to read and end up only being able to focus on a paragraph or so before his mind would start wandering. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even bother to bring a book because he knew he wouldn’t actually end up reading. He’d just lay out his tea tray and stare off into nothing as he quietly considered his whole life up until that point. He didn’t mean to spend as much time by himself as he does. It just happens that way.

On days like these, Jisoo would try to connect with people to keep himself from thinking too much. Nowadays, whenever Seungcheol or Hoshi would invite him over for drinks (or coffee), Jisoo would always make an effort to say yes regardless of what he was feeling. He was trying to discipline himself to be more social, which was often easier said than done. But Jisoo’s worst fear was getting into a rut and not being able to find his way out again.

 

But being around Seungcheol and Hoshi helped. Usually.

“He’s failing Composition 101?!” Seungcheol asked, scandalized at the thought of Mingyu’s subpar performance.

Hoshi took a sip of beer. “This is why Mingyu didn’t want me to tell you about it. He knew you’d react like this.”

Jisoo warmed his hands with the mug of coffee he’d been given by Seungcheol when he arrived at their place. He always enjoyed listening to the way Hoshi and Seungcheol talked about Mingyu and Minghao, almost like they were anxious empty-nesters trying to get used to life without the kids in the house.

“React like what?” Seungcheol replied with furrowed brows.

“With the” –Hoshi gestured in Seungcheol’s general direction– “the up in arms thing you do at any sign of rest or relaxation. You hold Mingyu to a higher standard than his parents.”

“You’re not suggesting that me wanting him to not fail Composition 101 is unreasonable?” Seungcheol replied. 

“No, I mean,” Hoshi adjusted his sitting position on the floor by the coffee table, “you, of all people, have got to know that Mingyu will straighten out his academic performance. He’s no slacker.”

Seungcheol leaned back on one hand and sipped his beer in the other hand. “Yeah, you’re right… And if he gets too distracted, Minghao will be there to straighten him out.”

Jisoo took a sip of his coffee and shyly chipped into the conversation. “How’s Minghao doing, Hoshi?”

Hoshi smiled. “Flourishing. Just like I knew he would.” Hoshi set his drink down and raked a hand through his hair in a dramatic gesture of self-congratulation. “He just needed an outlet to empower him and help him acclimate to a social environment.”

Jisoo laughed a little to himself. “Are you talking about your dance classes?” he asked, hiding behind his mug from Hoshi’s response to his skepticism.

Hoshi whipped his head back towards Jisoo and stared with mock surprise. “He’s made a lot of friends in my class! Do you know there’s a kid in there who’s in his biology class at Seoul National? His name’s Jihoon. Good dancer.” Hoshi picked up his glass again. “Minghao told me the other day that they’re going to be lab partners. This is what you might call _networking._ ”

Both Jisoo and Seungcheol couldn’t help but find Hoshi’s confidence endearing. 

 

The three of them could spend hours sitting around a table with drinks, reminiscing like old men, wishing for the future, making peace with the past. Ever since the incident in Boeun, they, along with everyone else involved, had to spend a lot of time trying to make sense of it all. Even after all this time, many months later, it still felt like a dark, chaotic stain on each of their memories.

“Mingyu and Minghao seem to be coping well with it all,” Seungcheol piped up. “Although, sometimes I wonder if Mingyu is trying to seem less affected than he actually is.”

“He does do that, doesn’t he?” Jisoo asked, half out loud, half to himself. “And Minghao?”

“Well, Minghao has about a million layers of trauma that he’ll be sifting through for the rest of his life,” Hoshi answered. “It may seem strange, but that might actually give him the advantage of having practice _processing_ this sort of thing, you know? Minghao may be quicker to come to terms with the pain than Mingyu. But one thing is certain,” Hoshi continued, reaching for a charred piece of garlic left on the hot plate between them on the table, “they’re looking out for each other. As long as they’re together, they’ll be fine.”

Seungcheol nodded. “You’re right. So, don’t worry so much about them,” Seungcheol concluded. 

Hoshi huffed. “I can’t help worrying! After I wasn’t able to be there with all of you in Boeun, I feel like I can never let any of you out of my sight ever again,” he replied, indignantly popping the charred piece of garlic into his mouth. “I felt so useless. I feel like I’m making up for it now.”

Seungcheol smacked the back of Hoshi’s head. “Hey, don’t talk like that.”

Jisoo held his coffee cup close to himself. “There’s nothing you _could’ve_ done, Soonyoung. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Hoshi ran a finger along the top of the beer bottle, downcast. But Jisoo leaned forward to catch his eye.

“Hey, you want to know who was useless? I _was_ there, and I somehow found a way to be _completely and utterly_ useless,” Jisoo responded playfully, trying to get Hoshi to smile.

“Hey!” Seungcheol threw a rolled up napkin at Jisoo. “I will not have both of you self-loathing. Not at _my_ table.”

Jisoo laughed at he deflected the projectile with his hand. “I thought I was helping,” he replied with emphatic innocence. 

“But really, Jisoo,” Hoshi started, looking up to meet his friend’s eyes, “what about you? I mean… you almost died in there, right? How are you holding up?”

Jisoo nodded slowly, trying to process the memory that he’d tried so hard to forget. “I guess I’m doing as well as anybody else,” he replied, trying to control the lilt in his voice. It wasn’t easy for him to think about Boeun. 

“It should never have happened to you,” Seungcheol murmured. It still made him angry to think about how he found Jisoo that night. “You shouldn’t have ever been a part of it.”

“Maybe,” Jisoo replied, still thinking hard about it. “But I guess since I was anyways, I should try and find something good in it, right?” Somehow, it was a difficult thing for him to say. 

“You don’t have to if it hurts, you know,” Seungcheol replied, pouring himself some water from the pitcher sitting on the floor by the table. “It doesn’t have to make sense. Sometimes, pain like that doesn’t make any sense. You don’t have to find the silver lining in everything, Jisoo.”

“I know,” Jisoo replied, trying to convince himself. “I know that.” 

Hoshi placed a hand on Jisoo’s shoulder, pulling him back from lingering on it too much. “Hey, you’re still here. That’s _well_ enough of a silver lining for me.”

Seungcheol smiled at his friend’s ability to turn the tone of the conversation so effectively. “He’s right. You’re here, and you’re safe.” He held up his cup. “I’ll drink to that.” Hoshi clinked his glass against Seungcheol’s and Jisoo smiled, picking up his coffee cup and holding it up against Hoshi’s and Seungcheol’s glasses. 

“To Hong Jisoo,” Seungcheol announced dramatically, “and his extraordinary ability to stay both _alive_ and also _kind_ , despite everything.” 

Hoshi excitedly set down his beer and draped his arm around Jisoo’s shoulders, nearly causing him to spill his coffee. “To Hong Jisoo!” he chanted. 

Jisoo laughed as Hoshi rocked him back and forth as he chanted. “You’re too much, both of you,” Jisoo scolded lovingly.

Hoshi took Jisoo by the ears and pulled him down, kissing the top of his head with an over-emphasized “Mwah!” sound. “What else are friends for?” Hoshi replied, ruffling Jisoo’s hair as he held him down in a headlock. 

Jisoo was laughing, both amused and flustered by the attention. Seungcheol laughed along with them, playfully cautioning Hoshi to stop roughhousing before somebody got hurt.

 

Jisoo went home feeling thankful that night. He felt as though his friends were able to somehow sense how he’d been feeling, and he felt grateful for their efforts to make him feel welcomed and appreciated. 

There was, however, something he couldn’t shake from the back of his consciousness. It was something he didn’t mention while the three of them were discussing Boeun, the thing that seemed to cut him the deepest, even after all of this time. He didn’t want to think about it. BUt he couldn’t keep himself from thinking about it.

Jisoo stepped into his apartment and locked the door behind him. It was dark, and it felt quieter after the raucous laughter in Seungcheol and Hoshi’s place. He dropped off his keys in a basket by the door and beelined toward the couch that sat along the edge of the small space. Once he reached it, without removing his jacket or shoes, he exhaustedly collapsed onto the couch. He couldn’t even find the energy to walk a few more steps to the mattress where he slept nestled in the other corner of the studio apartment. Something was rubbing at his consciousness, almost like the feeling of static between his ears. He couldn’t keep himself from thinking about that night. He felt silly for ever thinking he could. 

 

_Boeun Emergency Medical Center, 7 months ago._

_Jisoo woke up in a hospital bed about 30 minutes ago and had been spending the entire time since trying to get back to sleep. Every inch of his body ached. The sharp pain in his head made even the dimmest light in the room unbearable. His body could no longer sleep, even though his mind wanted nothing more than to sleep for just a few moments longer._

_“He’s in here.” Jisoo heard the nurse’s voice as she oriented somebody into his room at the hospital. Part of him was terrified. Was it Wonwoo? Had he found him at the hospital somehow? He pretended to sleep, too petrified to even open his eyes._

_He heard someone shuffle towards him and the nurse shut the door. Had she just shut them in the room with him? Jisoo’s heart was pounding. He prayed that the heart monitor would sound an alarm to the doctors so that he didn’t have to be in the room alone with the person whose face he hadn’t yet found the courage to see. He could barely stand it. He wanted to get up and run, but in his condition, he knew he’d never get away._

_Suddenly, Jisoo heard the sound of ragged breaths. The person in the room with him had begun to weep quietly, as though trying to not wake him. The footsteps approached the middle of the floor, but the stranger lingered a few feet away. Jisoo prayed that he would keep his distance._

_Jisoo heard the sound of someone putting their weight against the wall adjacent to the bed and sliding down into a sitting position. They continued to cry quietly, but the sound seemed magnified by the quiet of the hospital room. Remnants of a voice appeared through the quiet sobs. It slowly occurred to Jisoo who had entered his hospital room, given away by the hushed tone of his weeping. Jisoo’s heart calmed, but his chest ached. He still didn’t open his eyes._

_Finally, the person in the room calmed himself enough to stand to his feet and try to approach the hospital bed once again. His footsteps were light as if he were walking across a ravine on rice paper, but Jisoo could feel his presence as he stepped up beside him. Jisoo hated that this person had to see him in the state he was in–bruised and battered. He still could not bring himself to open his eyes._

_“Jisoo?” the person whispered. “Can you hear me?”_

_Jisoo didn’t move or make a sound. What could he have possibly said in that moment?_

_“I’m glad you’re safe,” the person murmured, his voice breaking again. “I’m sorry that I did this to you. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”_

_Jisoo wasn’t sure whether there was nothing in his brain to say in response or whether there were too many responses floating around in his mind to choose. Either way, he laid there quietly, grasping desperately for the words to say so he could finally open his eyes._

_“I’ve made too many mistakes already. This is the worst one yet, right?” The person took a deep, fragile breath and continued his monologue. “Maybe it’s better that you aren’t awake to forgive me. You’d do it, even if I could never deserve it for the rest of my life. I would never want that.”_

_Jisoo fought back against the ache he felt in the pit of his throat. It felt as though he was looking across the room at a stranger in a crowd. It was a horrible place they were in together–this hospital room. They finally had space, finally had the time, and finally had an excuse to talk, but Jisoo still felt like Jeonghan was too far away–even up this close._

_“Shua?” Jisoo felt Jeonghan reach out and touch his shoulder as if checking to make sure he was really there and really alive._

_It sent a cold pulse through Jisoo’s body. Even though Jeonghan had essentially carried him on his back when they were escaping the elementary school, Jisoo still felt as though this were the first interaction they’d had in years._

_“Does it hurt very much? Your head?” Jeonghan asked quietly. Jeonghan finally sat down on the step stool that stood at the side of the bed, provided for visitors like him. “I can’t seem to stop hurting you, can I?” he determined, his voice heavy and broken._

_Jeonghan mindlessly placed a hand on Jisoo’s head. Until that moment, Jisoo had completely forgotten about his head injuries and the migraine. Jeonghan’s touch, even as gentle as it was, caused Jisoo to wince. Jeonghan yanked his hand away, worried that he’d hurt Jisoo badly._

_“Shua, I’m sorry,” Jeonghan stumbled over his words a little. He seemed like he wasn’t prepared for Jisoo to be awake. “I– I didn’t mean to hurt– I didn’t know it would hurt.”_

_Jisoo scolded himself for letting Jeonghan know he was awake. It took him a few moments to finally get up the courage to open his eyes, and it took another bout of courage to turn his head and look Jeonghan in the face. Jeonghan looked exhausted, but Jisoo suspected that he looked worse._

_“It didn’t hurt badly,” Jisoo replied quietly. He didn’t intend for his voice to sound so raspy. He hadn’t spoken for several hours, and he felt like he had to practice a bit just to talk naturally again._

_Once Jisoo had finally confronted Jeonghan, it took them a long time to finally get out what they needed to say. Jeonghan stumbled around his words, treading lightly and making sure he didn’t insinuate any excuses for himself. Jisoo also felt flustered, but more because he wasn’t completely sure how he felt about all of it._

_Jeonghan apologized for that night, and he apologized for every other time he’d hurt Jisoo in the past. He explained that his brain wasn’t well, and, without going into details, told Jisoo that his condition caused his family to have to move him from Seoul to Shanghai for treatment. He explained that this was, to an extent, why he left Korea all those years ago. That was why he changed. He was getting worse by the day, but he was too worried about Jisoo to tell him the truth._

_Jisoo could sense that there was much more to Jeonghan’s story than he’d ever know, so he didn’t pry for more details or explanations. At the end of it all, that isn’t what Jisoo wanted in the first place. Jisoo didn’t want anything from Jeonghan. Maybe he should’ve. Seungcheol certainly would’ve insisted on more, but Jisoo didn’t need it. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t._

_Jisoo hesitated to forgive Jeonghan, which seemed reasonable. Jeonghan thought so too, and he seemed grateful that Jisoo was simply willing to hear his story. Then, as quickly as they were reacquainted, Jeonghan left, and no one heard from him again after that night in Boeun._

 

Jisoo’s apartment, present day.

While the rest of Boeun had faded and drifted away, this particular memory was textured and detailed, like a picture in high quality. Jisoo kicked off his shoes and let them fall to the ground beside the couch. He stared at the white ceiling until he became lost in introspection. _I wonder what life would’ve been like if he weren’t ill_ , Jisoo thought to himself. He wondered if things could’ve been different between them. He wondered if they would’ve stayed as close as they’d been in their early high school years. _I guess I was a little sick, too, when we were young_ Jisoo thought. _Maybe that’s why we got along._


	2. You Dyed Your Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hong Jisoo gets an unexpected visitor at Nagomi Noodles.

Jisoo got to Nagomi Noodles early to train a new runner, Seokmin, by Jun’s request. Jun always felt like more of Seungcheol and Minghao’s friend, and Jisoo felt somewhat shy when he’d come into the restaurant with his roommate Seokmin or their friend Seungkwan. Jun was a charismatic person naturally, something that Jisoo envied, but it meant that Jun tried his hardest to make friends with all of the friends’ of his friends. Since Jun and Jisoo’s first interaction was somewhat awkward–at a hospital in Boeun after a night of near-death-experiences–Jun felt the need to compensate by coming into Jisoo’s restaurant more often, usually with his roommate. That’s how Jisoo got to know Seokmin. 

“Okay, so once the orders come up, just look for the right table number, and don’t forget to ask if they need extra napkins, okay?” Jisoo was running through all of the things Seokmin would need to know for his first day on the job. 

Seokmin nodded diligently at all of Jisoo’s instructions. “I won’t let you down, Chief,” Seokmin replied, lifting a hand in a salute. 

Jisoo smiled. He appreciated Seokmin’s dedication to the job. He supported the fact that he and Jun were roommates now, trying to afford their own place. Seokmin was kind. It was good that Jun had Seokmin, since he was coming out of some other, less healthy relationships–namely with Wonwoo and Hansol. But things turned out well for Jun, and even Hansol is letting himself be life-coached by Seungcheol in his taekwondo class. Jisoo supported their efforts to try and make something better for themselves after everything, and so he appreciated the role Seokmin played in that positive change.

“Go ahead and check on the orders, and I’ll start pre-bussing tables, okay?” Jisoo said, taking the dish towel that Seokmin had been clutching in his hand from vigorously wiping down tables. “Thanks again for the help.”

Seokmin smiled and patted Jisoo on the shoulder. “You got it, boss!” he chirped as he strutted off towards the kitchen to check on orders. Jisoo laughed a little at how enthusiastic Seokmin had been since he’d started training. It was exactly what he needed since the boys had gone to school and the restaurant had gotten a little quiet. 

Jisoo did a quick round of all the tables, making sure patrons had everything they needed and getting empty plates out of people’s ways. He noticed that Seokmin pretty much had orders covered, so he took the opportunity to linger for a moment at the cash register behind the counter. The lunch rush was dying down, and Jisoo could feel himself nearing the end of his second wind. He sat down on the stool behind the register and took a moment to start checking credit receipts.

“Is this a seat-yourself place, or will you show me to a table?”

Jisoo was so engulfed in his credit receipts that he didn’t even notice someone approach the counter. “Sorry, sorry,” he stuttered as he collected all of the paper and shoved it back under the counter so he could attend to the customer. “Let me just… Sorry, yes, let me show you–” Jisoo looked up at the customer and stopped.

The customer flashed a cheeky smile and leaned forward with his elbows on the counter. “Hello there, long time no see! Do you recognize me?” 

Jisoo blinked a few times as his brain registered the face of the person standing in front of him. He _didn’t_ recognize Yoon Jeonghan at first, but once he did, he could hardly believe it. “You… you colored your hair.” The sentence sounded dumb to his own ears, but it was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

Jeonghan ruffled the back of his hair, which was blonde instead of brown. It was messy like he’d been holed up in a hermit cave somewhere meditating for the last 7 months. “I also chopped off about 30cm, but thank you for noticing.”

“I noticed that you cut it when I saw you in Boeun,” Jisoo observed. “It wasn’t blonde then.” 

Jeonghan shrugged. “Figured I’d try it out,” he replied nonchalantly. 

Once Jisoo had regained his senses, he realized that he couldn’t believe they were still having this conversation. Seokmin passed them from the kitchen with a bowl of noodles in each hand and dropped them off at two customers seated at the counter. Before he made it back into the kitchen, Jisoo grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him behind the register. “Could you watch the register for a few minutes? I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.”

Slightly caught off guard, Seokmin hesitated for a moment before replying, “Is everything okay?”

Jisoo glanced over at Jeonghan, who was still smiling casually as though nothing seemed strange. “Oh yes,” Jisoo lied, gathering up the credit card receipts and handing them off to Seokmin, “everything is just fine.”

Before Seokmin could ask any more questions, Jisoo slipped out from behind the counter and grabbed Jeonghan by both shoulders. He ushered Jeonghan into the back office where he got work done and where employees kept their belongings. 

The room was small and was also used for storage space. The two of them were essentially knee-to-knee once Jisoo had closed the door and they had finally sat down. 

“Wow, when I asked to be seated, I did not expect these kinds of accommodations,” Jeonghan joked, leaning back leisurely in the chair Jisoo had placed him in. 

“What are you doing back in Seoul?” Jisoo asked in a concerned voice. “What happened? Is something going on?” Jisoo could only imagine a handful of reason why Jeonghan would be back in Seoul, and none of them were pleasant or peaceful. 

“Just passing through,” Jeonghan replied as he scanned the room. “How do you get any work done in here with all of this clutter?”

Jisoo couldn’t hide his astonishment as he watched Jeonghan. Clearly, there was a disconnect in their ideas about the whole situation. “You were just passing through?” Jisoo asked. 

“Yup, and I wanted to drop by and reconnect a bit,” Jeonghan answered. “How is Mingyu doing? Is he still getting along well with that Minghao? What’s going on with all of that?”

“Jeonghan,” Jisoo fought to suppress the frustration that was beginning to rise up in his chest as Jeonghan continued to serpentine around his questions. “How long are you staying?”

Jeonghan crossed his arms across his chest. “Why do you ask?”

Jisoo matched his posture. “Why’d you dye your hair?”

“I told you. I wanted to try it out.”

“You’re wearing glasses too.”

“Astigmatism.” Jeonghan tapped the rim of his glasses sarcastically. “Geez, can’t a man evolve without being interrogated like this? I’m trying new things. Blooming, if you will.”

Jisoo nodded, beginning to understand. “So this is a long-term thing.”

“The glasses? Maybe. Who knows what could happen to my eyeballs.”

“I mean that you’re staying, aren’t you?”

Jeonghan scoffed and pulled up one leg close to his body as he sat in the chair. “What made you Sherlock Holmes all of the sudden?”

Jisoo made certain that his voice remained calm and objective. “You don’t want people to recognize you.”

Jeonghan gave him a cheeky look. “Does this make me Dr. Watson or James Moriarty?”

“Jeonghan–”

“You’re right,” Jeonghan interrupted, leaning back in his chair, “I think of myself as more of an Irene Adler, personally.”

Jisoo leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “ _Jeonghan._ ”

“Hm?” Jeonghan leaned in attentively, capturing himself out of the convoluted analogy.

“I don’t know why you’re here, but–,” Jisoo murmured.

“Can I stay at your house?” Jeonghan asked. 

Jisoo paused. He felt like he was going nuts. “What?”

“Can I sleep on your couch tonight?” Jeonghan repeated, pulling up both knees close to his chest so that his feet were in the chair. “I don’t really have anybody else in town to stay with, and hotels in Seoul are too damn expensive.”

Jisoo sighed and dropped his face into his hands. “Jeonghan, what is going on?” he murmured, his voice muffled by his hands.

“I’m currently without a place to sleep. That’s what’s going on,” Jeonghan replied. “Please?”

Jisoo finally stood up from his chair forcefully, accidentally hitting his shins on the front of Jeonghan’s chair. “Ow,” Jisoo hissed, trying to shimmy between them towards the door of the tiny cluttered office. 

“Oh damn, you good?” Jeonghan asked, still sitting in the chair with his arms wrapped around both knees. 

“Jeonghan, you can’t stay at my house. I’m sorry,” Jisoo concluded as he opened the office door and slipped out. Once he was out, he held the door open and motioned for Jeonghan to come out also.

Jeonghan shrugged and stood to his feet, also having to shimmy in order to make his way through the narrow office without hitting a bookshelf or a mound of papers. 

Jisoo escorted Jeonghan from the back office back out into the main room of the restaurant. Suddenly, when they were back out by the counter, Jeonghan whipped around to face Jisoo.

“Shua?”

Jisoo felt strange that Jeonghan called him “Shua.” He hadn’t called him that since they were in high school. “Yeah, Jeonghan?”

“If I can’t sleep on your couch, can I at least get a table?”

Jisoo put Jeonghan at a table and he ordered a bowl of noodles. He felt a bit guilty to not give Jeonghan access to his couch for the night, but in the spirit of self-preservation, he figured that he’d play it safe around this person who, at the end of the day, he didn’t really know anymore. Jeonghan didn’t seem too distraught, which made Jisoo feel a bit more optimistic. Perhaps Jeonghan had a plan B to fall back on. He didn’t seem too worried about himself, which made Jisoo a little less worried too. 

 

Once Jeonghan had finished his noodles, Jisoo gave him a free bowl of noodles to-go, just to make sure Jeonghan had something to eat that evening. Jeonghan left with a cordial goodbye to both Jisoo and Seokmin, and things seemed to go back to normal at Nagomi Noodles. 

The lunch rush had died away and the restaurant had gone back to being nearly completely empty, leaving tables to be bussed by Jisoo and Seokmin. 

As the two of them cleared off tables, Seokmin asked Jisoo in passing, “Hey, Jisoo?”

Jisoo didn’t look up as he placed dirty dishes on a tray so Seokmin could wipe the table. “Hm?”

“The guy who came in earlier–the guy with glasses–was everything okay with you and him? You seemed flustered.”

Jisoo smiled reassuringly at Seokmin as he stacked dirty cups. “It’s kind of a long story, but don’t worry about it. We’re just old classmates.”

“If you say so.” Seokmin flung his washrag over his shoulder and took the tray out of Jisoo’s hands. “From now on, if that guy comes in again, do you want me to let you know?”

Jisoo thought about it for a moment before finally answering. “Maybe.”

“Is he a felon?” Seokmin asked, his eyes wide. 

“Oh,” Jisoo waved his hands and shook his head ardently, “no, no, he’s totally safe,” Jisoo replied. _Except for the first-degree murder, assault, and assisted kidnapping_ , he thought.

Seokmin nodded. “Okay, I trust you. After I run these to the back, can I take my 20?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Jisoo replied. “Go for it. I’ll finish up counting those receipts.”

 

As Jisoo laid in bed that night, he wondered where Yoon Jeonghan had ended up. He kept trying to decide whether or not it was right to not let Jeonghan sleep on his couch, but eventually, he decided that he shouldn’t torture himself about it. _Jeonghan is resilient_ , Jisoo thought. _He’ll be okay_. 

 

Since this was Seokmin’s last day of training, Jisoo decided to try and get to the restaurant early again to get some things ready for his last training shift. Jisoo was impressed by how quickly Seokmin was catching on to everything, so much so that he felt ready to let Seokmin handle the main floor by himself while Jisoo looked after the patio. Since Seokmin was going to take the shift alone for the first time, Jisoo figured it’d be nice for him to have some of his opening work done for him beforehand so he felt less on-edge.

Jisoo unlocked the back door where employees usually entered from. He lifted his hand to flip on the hallway lights, as he usually does, then stopped. _Did I leave the bathroom lights on?_ Jisoo thought as he noticed a dim glow from the white lights of the men’s room at the end of the hallway. Jisoo tiptoed forward and stuck his head in the men’s bathroom. It was completely empty, but Jisoo noticed something peculiar by the sink. _Why are the counters all wet? I wiped those down before I left yester–_

Suddenly, the mystery of the wet counters was pushed to the back of Jisoo’s mind. As he scanned the counter, he noticed somebody’s toothbrush sitting in a glass cup in the corner of the counter my the mirror. _Oh no_ , he thought. _He didn’t…_

Jisoo dashed into the main restaurant and glanced around the room. Just as he feared, he saw someone curled up, asleep on the couch in the lounge area near the front corner of the restaurant. 

“Jeonghan!” Jisoo yelled, flipping on the house lights.

Jeonghan groaned and rolled over on the couch so that his face was pressed into the cushion. He mumbled something that Jisoo didn’t catch and held a throw pillow over his head.

Jisoo ambled over to the lounge area and yanked the throw pillow from Jeonghan’s hands, causing Jeonghan to whine indignantly. Jisoo stumbled over his words a bit before finally getting out the question: “What are you doing in here?”

Jeonghan stretched his arms long above his head and replied in a groan. “You said that I couldn’t stay at your place.”

“Jeonghan,” Jisoo sighed, trying to keep his voice level, “I understand that I may not have made this abundantly clear, but this–” he gestured to the ground on either side of him with his palms facing down “–this establishment is _also my place_.”

Jeonghan sighed and pressed his face back into the couch cushions. “Well, I’m already here, so could you give me just like, ten more minutes of sleep?” His voice was muffled by the couch, and Jisoo could barely understand what he said. 

Jisoo rubbed his eyes and sat down in a lounger that sat adjacent to the couch. “Listen, I know that you’re in a tough position Jeonghan, but you can’t just break into my restaurant and–Hang on, how did you get in here?”

Without speaking, Jeonghan pointed to the front door. 

Jisoo glanced at the front door and leaned back in the lounger, mortified and exasperated.He felt like he’d aged 20 years in a matter of minutes. “You picked the lock on the front door?”

Jeonghan nodded into the couch cushions. 

Suddenly, Jisoo slapped his knees and sat straight up. “All right, that’s it.” Jisoo jumped to his feet and hoisted Jeonghan up off the couch by hooking his arms under Jeonghan’s and throwing his body weight backward with all of his might. 

Jeonghan made a weird alarmed noise (that Jisoo had only ever heard come from Jeonghan), but Jisoo ignored him. Stubbornly, Jeonghan refused to use his legs to stand, leaving Jisoo trying to hold him up like a parent tries to hold up a toddler.

“Stop being _obstinate_!” Jisoo yelled as he continued to try and pull Jeonghan off of the couch. 

“Stop _interrupting my sleep experience_!” Jeonghan retaliated, trying to grip the couch with his foot.

Finally, unable to hold up Jeonghan any longer, Jisoo fumbled backward onto his tailbone, dropping half of Jeonghan’s body onto the rug. 

Upside-down with his legs still on the couch and his torso on the floor, Jeonghan eyed Jisoo. “Are you happy now?” he asked, thoroughly unamused. 

Jisoo lifted himself up on his elbows and glared back at Jeonghan. “You can’t sleep here,” he wheezed, still catching his breath from wrestling Jeonghan off the couch. 

“You’re the one who said I couldn’t sleep at your house!” Jeonghan shot back. 

Jisoo groaned and laid backward on the cheap, red-and-blue rug. “If I let you sleep at my house, will you swear to never break into my restaurant again?”

Jeonghan twisted around so that he was no longer upside-down and both of his legs were on the floor. “Wait, are you being serious?”

Jisoo craned his neck sideways to give Jeonghan an exasperated look. “Look me. In my eyes. And _you_ tell _me_. Do I _look_ like I’m joking?”

Jeonghan smiled widely and grabbed Jisoo by his wrists. He pulled Jisoo up off of his back into a sitting position and sat cross-legged in front of him. “You’re really going to let me stay at your house?” Jeonghan asked. 

“Under two conditions,” Jisoo replied.

Jeonghan straightened his posture and nodded convincingly, wearing his very best “serious” face.

“You can’t interact with the people who were in Boeun that night, okay? Seungcheol and Hoshi _literally live right next door_ to me, so you have to be careful. I know that, in the end, you made the right choice, but things are still complicated with them. So, if you want them to know you’re here, let me handle it, okay?”

Jeonghan nodded. He understood better than anyone how fragile things can be when you’re involved with the wrong people at the wrong time, and Jisoo knew that. Jeonghan was far from incompetent.

“And you won’t be able to come and go as you please,” Jisoo warned. “Remember, even if it was years ago, you still hurt people from here, understand? Especially after what happened at the elementary school, we don’t know who your friends are and who aren’t friends. Remember, with your track record, you don’t want anybody who doesn’t like you calling the cops and getting you a life sentence, understand?”

“I understand,” Jeonghan replied. “You’ll be happy to know that, in these past couple of years, I’ve gotten pretty good at sneaking around unnoticed.”

Jisoo sighed. “Yes, I know. That’s how you get appointed by criminals to participate in kidnapping schemes, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Fair point.”

Jisoo found himself smiling slightly at Jeonghan’s blatant and self-aware tomfoolery. Something about it reminded him of being in high school again. “Once we open, go hang out in the back office until close so we can go back to my place together. Deal?”

Jeonghan smiled brightly and jumped to his feet. He reached down and grabbed Jisoo by the hand, yanking him up beside him. Jisoo rose up clumsily and balanced himself so to not fall forward. “Thanks, Shua,” Jeonghan said with a glint in his eye.

Jisoo laughed a little and pressed out the wrinkles in his button-up with his hands. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but just know that I’ve got my eye on you,” Jisoo said, half-playfully, half-serious.

Jeonghan winked at Jisoo and patted him playfully on the shoulder as he strutted past him towards the back office. Jisoo watched him as he went, unsure what was this feeling that he was experiencing in the pit of his stomach. In the back of his mind, Jisoo could only process one conclusion: _I have gone completely crazy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! Yoon Jeonghan is back in town, to the stress and high blood-pressure of Hong Jisoo.


	3. This Feels Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo lets Jeonghan stay in his home for a little while. Jeonghan experiences emotions that he hasn't experienced in a long time– both good and bad.

Jisoo had to finagle the key in the lock on the door in order to get it to work. Jeonghan took in every detail of the apartment complex, from the movement of the elevator to the color of the walls and ceilings to the white light cast by the fluorescent bulbs in the hallways. _Jisoo has his own place_ , Jeonghan thought to himself. It made him think back to the tiny townhouse that Jisoo and his mother lived in when they were in high school. Jisoo had come a long way since working part-time at his grandfather’s noodle shop. He’s independent now. Although, Jeonghan always loved going over to Jisoo’s house. Jisoo’s mother was always kind to him. She always treated him like a second son. 

The two of them entered the apartment and Jisoo told Jeonghan that he could hang his coat on the hanger next to the front door. Jeonghan didn’t quite hear what he said because he was so engrossed in analyzing his surroundings. They entered into a small kitchen area, just a few square feet with a stove and a sink and a few cabinets. Even so, the space was colored with remnants of the same Jisoo that Jeonghan had known when they were in school together. There were small stacks of books scattered in various places. Jisoo had scribbled down to-do lists, song lyrics, and even a few chord progressions on yellow sticky notes and stuck them up across the cabinets. Jeonghan remembered that Jisoo liked to write music when they were young. He was glad that Jisoo had kept up the habit.

“You can stick your things by the couch if you want to,” Jisoo instructed. “It isn’t very much, but you can rest here tonight.”

Jeonghan wandered through the kitchen into the main room of the studio-style apartment. Because it was just one room, Jeonghan was able to observe Jisoo’s entire habitat laid out in front of him. Jeonghan recognized the blanket that laid across the back of the couch. The same blanket had been used to make pillow forts at Jisoo’s childhood home. They used to pretend that they were warriors guarding the royal palace and used wooden spoons as their weapons for battle. Jeonghan’s gaze shifted to the mattress in the back corner of the room, made up nicely with plain white sheets and an old beige comforter. The blue alarm clock that laid on the ground next to the mattress was the same one that woke them for school on days when Jeonghan would stay over at Jisoo’s house late watching movies on a school night. 

“Eventually we’re going to have to talk about why you’re here, Jeonghan,” Jisoo said, interrupting Jeonghan’s sentimental daze. 

Jeonghan glanced back at Jisoo, who was standing back, watching Jeonghan survey the room, both hands in his pockets. Jeonghan took off his backpack and set it down next to the old couch that sat along the edge of the room. “You’re right. We’ll talk about it soon,” Jeonghan replied. “I promise.”

Jisoo nodded slowly, still unsure of how to approach the conversation. “Get some sleep, and we can talk about it tomorrow after I get off work, okay?”

Jeonghan flopped backwards onto Jisoo’s couch. He put both hands behind his head and sighed a deep, relaxing breath. “Your place is so much like you, Jisoo,” Jeonghan commented, smiling. 

Jisoo walked over to the mattress and put his things down on the short bedside table adjacent to it. The springs of the old mattress groaned as Jisoo sat down at the edge of the mattress. “What do you mean?” he asked, pulling off his work shoes and lining them up nicely under the bedside table. 

“It’s humble, but everything in here is meaningful,” Jeonghan replied. “Is that a weird thing to say? I’m not sure if I explained that exactly the way I wanted to.”

Jisoo was caught off guard by the observation. “It’s maybe a little strange.”

Jeonghan laughed a little to himself. “But it makes sense, right?”

Jisoo hooked his phone up to a charger plugged into the wall by the bedside table. “I think so. I mean, in kind of an ineffable way.” Just then, Jisoo stood up and opened a door that seemed to lead into the bathroom. “Bathroom’s here,” Jisoo explained, flipping the light on. “Feel free to use it whenever. There’s toothpaste in the sink drawer, but I hope you have your own toothbrush. And there’s a shower in here too if you need one.”

“You’ll be happy to know that I have mastered the art of public-bathroom-sink showers, Jisoo,” Jeonghan shot back, tuning over on the couch to face him. “Being homeless has made me very resourceful.”

“You know, I thought you seemed pretty clean for a homeless guy,” Jisoo replied, pulling open a small chest of drawers and rummaging through the clothes. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants and grey shirt that had a mushroom from Mario printed on the front of it. Both articles of clothing looked much too big for him. “Towels are under the sink. Is there anything else you need to know while you’re staying?”

“I would love a glass of water, actually,” Jeonghan replied cheekily. Jisoo picked up a pillow from his bed and pitched it at Jeonghan’s head. Jeonghan caught the pillow just before it made contact with his face. Laughing, he added, “I guess that’s a no on the water?”

“I’m getting up tomorrow at 5:30 to open the store,” Jisoo said, causing Jeonghan to raise his eyebrows, eyes wide.

“In the morning?” Jeonghan asked, shocked. 

“In the morning,” Jisoo verified as he wandered into the bathroom and closed the door, Jeonghan assumed to put on the sweatpants and big tee shirt. 

Jeonghan rolled back onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “And I really can’t leave this room?” Jeonghan called to Jisoo. 

“Not until I let Seungcheol and Hoshi know that you’re here,” Jisoo called back from behind the bathroom door.

“Can’t you tell them tonight?” Jeonghan asked, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it around himself. 

Jisoo opened the bathroom door. He had a toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth and he was wearing the baggy sweatpants and the Mario tee shirt. The huge tee shirt made him look even skinnier than he already was. “It’s too late to call them now. Stop complaining and go to sleep.”

“Whoa,” Jeonghan replied, somewhat amused at Jisoo’s tone. “Sassy.”

 

Jeonghan woke the next morning to sunlight shining through Jisoo’s sheer curtains. He was groggy when he awoke, unsure where he was for a short moment. Jeonghan sat up on the couch and put on his round glasses before looking over at Jisoo’s bed. It was all made up, and Jisoo’s shoes were no longer under the bedside table. _He must’ve gone to work already_ , Jeonghan thought. It was kind of Jisoo not to wake him that morning. Waking up in Jisoo’s apartment felt like waking up in his own bed. The atmosphere was bright. It was kind. Jeonghan was happy to be there. 

Jeonghan looked around the room, still trying to orient himself in the unfamiliar space. He hoisted himself to his feet and reached up toward the ceiling in a stretch. He bent forward to touch his toes then clasped his hands behind his back to stretch out his shoulders. _Sucks that I can’t leave this room all day_ , Jeonghan said to himself as he wandered into the bathroom. He picked up his toothbrush, which he had placed in a cup on the corner of Jisoo’s sink next to Jisoo’s toothbrush. Jeonghan opened the sink drawer and picked up the toothpaste. _Cinnamon toothpaste. Gross. C’mon, Shua. You’re better than this_. 

Once Jeonghan had gotten himself cleaned up and dressed, he realized that he’d run out of ways to waste time. He wandered around the perimeter of the main room of Jisoo’s studio apartment, taking in all of the details and discovering old trinkets and books and movies that Jisoo must’ve had since they were young. 

It didn’t take long for Jeonghan to become overwhelmed by the sense of nostalgia that came of being alone with so many relics of his and Jisoo’s past. He decided that he’d try to find something else to keep him busy until Jisoo came back from the restaurant.

Jeonghan spotted Jisoo’s laptop and decided to try and watch one of Jisoo’s movies. Jisoo didn’t have a TV, so Jeonghan figured he watched movies on his laptop instead.

Jeonghan grabbed the clunky old laptop and sat down on the couch with it. He opened it up and groaned. _Password? Damnit_. Jeonghan tried typing in various phrases to see if he could guess Jisoo’s password. _IamHongJisoo. Incorrect. 30December1995. Incorrect. SoulEaterRules. Incorrect. SoulEaterRulez. Computer locked for 30 minutes._

Jeonghan whined and slammed Jisoo’s laptop closed. He tossed it back onto Jisoo’s mattress and laid sideways on the couch in defeat. _I am dying_. Finally, Jeonghan decided that he could no longer bear this level of boredom. _Sorry, Shua. I gotta get out of this room_.

 

Dressed in a big coat and one of Jisoo’s scarves to hide the bottom half of his face, Jeonghan walked out of Jisoo’s apartment complex and took a deep breath of cool, October air. _Thank god_ , Jeonghan thought. He was sure that if he was in that room for a moment longer, he’d go out of his mind. 

Jeonghan started walking down the streets of Yeongdeungpo, the district of Seoul where Jisoo’s apartment complex was. He wasn’t completely sure where he was going, but he decided to just walk until he came upon something interesting. Or until he got tired of walking. 

Jeonghan was on the lookout for places that seemed familiar to him. Jisoo’s old house was also in Yeongdeungpo, and he probably spent more time at Jisoo’s house than he spent at his own. They used to wander the streets of Yeongdeungpo and get into all manner of mischief, from footraces and scavenger hunts. They would usually finish out the day by going to a local convenience store and grabbing ice cream or noodles to eat before they had to return home for the night. Jeonghan wondered if he’d recognize any of their usual spots if he saw them.

Jeonghan found himself walking along a stone wall that stood around the perimeter of a small dog park that Jeonghan and Jisoo used to go to sometimes. Jeonghan recognized the detailing at the top of the stone wall. He and Jisoo would try to hoist each other up on top of the wall and look out over the dog park like they were surveying their kingdom. They must’ve had hundreds of hours worth of conversations on that stone wall. 

Suddenly, Jeonghan was jarred from his reminiscing by the sound of ringing, echoing loudly in his ears. He snapped back into reality to see a man on a bicycle headed straight towards him. The man was furiously ringing the bell on his bike, yelling for Jeonghan to get out of the way, but it was too late. Jeonghan tried to make room for the biker, but the handlebar clipped Jeonghan in the side, knocking both Jeonghan and the biker off their equilibriums. Jeonghan caught himself on the stone wall and looked backwards. 

The man had lost control of his bike and had collided with a little girl who was walking behind them on the sidewalk. As the little girl pushed herself up off of the sidewalk, Jeonghan noticed that her uniform was all torn and dusty. Her knees and elbows were scraped up and bloodied from the fall, and her lunch box had fallen open as it made contact with the ground, spilling her food out across the pavement. 

The biker had also pushed himself to his feet and had begin to examine his bike. Jeonghan heard him curse loudly and say something about his bike being bent, but he didn’t quite catch the end of what he said. Jeonghan found himself staring off into the open space between the biker and the little girl, his hands numb and his vision foggy. Quickly, Jeonghan had completely become detached from his own senses. His whole body had become cold. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” the little girl stuttered to the biker as she tried to collect the contents of her lunchbox. “I didn’t mean to–”

“Is sorry gonna buy me a new bike? Look at this–” The biker yanked the little girl up by the arm and dragged her over to where his bike was laying on the sidewalk. “You’ve screwed my tires! The hand is nearly bent sideways, you senseless…”

The man trailed off as he noticed Jeonghan walking towards them. Jeonghan’s expression was level and controlled–completely unreadable. 

“And you!” the biker growled, tossing the little girl to the side and strutting up to meet Jeonghan. “Are you completely deaf? If you had used your brain and pulled your head out of your ass–”

In an instant, Jeonghan had grabbed the biker by the hair on the top of his head, his expression still totally composed. The biker cried out and tried to pry Jeonghan’s hand from his head. Without emotion or hesitation, Jeonghan slammed the man’s head into the stone wall that ran along the sidewalk, knocking him unconsciously instantly. The man toppled to the ground in front of his broken bike. Behind them, the little girl screamed. 

Jeonghan began to blink away the fog. The sound of silence had morphed into the sound of screaming, breaking him out of his daze. Jeonghan stumbled backwards and looked around, sensing that he had fallen in and out of some kind of fugue. He leaned against the stone wall as he tried to regain control of his senses. Suddenly, he saw a little girl in a school uniform race past him in a panic. 

_She must be late for class_ , Jeonghan thought as he watched her run down the sidewalk. Jeonghan turned back around to see a man lying unconscious on the ground next to his damaged bike. 

“Oh god,” Jeonghan hurried to kneel down next to the man, who seemed to have given himself a concussion when he fell off of his bicycle. “Sir, are you okay…” Jeonghan reached up to shake the man by the shoulder, but as he brought his hand towards the man’s body, he noticed the red tinge of something speckling his jacket sleeve. In a panic, Jeonghan followed the trail of red up his sleeve and noticed that his own shirt was also covered in patches of red. Using his clean hand, Jeonghan touched his face. He looked down at his fingers, which were now smeared with the blood. It was on his face, too. 

Jeonghan stumbled backwards, away from the man. He felt like he was going to be sick. He looked around to make sure nobody was around. Then, as quickly as he could, Jeonghan stood up and ran. He ran and he did not stop.


	4. Trouble in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeonghan isn't sure what is happening to him, and Jisoo is just trying to make it through the day.

Part of Jisoo wished that it had been a busy day at the restaurant. He found himself lingering at the register, receipts counted, tables bussed, everything under control. It gave him too much time to worry about the state of his life and what could possibly happen next. Jisoo knew it wasn’t good for him to worry so much, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

Seokmin slipped out of the swinging doors that led into the kitchen with a pitcher of water in his hands. He noticed Jisoo caught up in his thoughts and stopped. “Are you okay, Boss?”

Jisoo straightened up quickly and looked at Seokmin. He was embarrassed to be caught lost in his own head while he was on the job. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Thanks, Seokmin.”

“I’m going to go fill up the water station and then I’ll take a look at bathrooms, okay?” Seokmin still felt the need to check with Jisoo before he did anything even thought he didn’t really need to. Jisoo felt as though he’d done so much so pick up slack where Jisoo couldn’t focus. Jisoo realized that Seokmin was essentially running the place in these past couple of days. He felt equally guilty and thankful. 

“We’re not busy, Seokmin. Take a lunch break once you’ve refilled the water station, okay? You should eat something. You’ve been on your feet a lot today.”

Seokmin smiled kindly. “It’s okay. My lunch break doesn’t start for another 20 minutes,” he chirped. 

Jisoo smiled back, determined to get Seokmin to take a damn break. “Add the extra 20 minutes on. It’s really no problem. Nobody is going to come in at this time on a Monday.”

Seokmin finally nodded and strutted off towards the water station. As soon as he was out of sight, Jisoo’s smile fell and he put both elbows on the counter next to the register. He placed his head in his hands and sighed deeply. _I have to ask Jeonghan why he’s here. Today._

 

 

Jeonghan slammed Jisoo’s door behind him and locked himself inside. He stood there for a moment, breathing deeply with his face inches from the door. He stared down at his hands, which still lingered on the lock and doorknob. They were still speckled with red, along with his coat and Jisoo’s scarf that he’d been wearing. Jeonghan jumped backwards and ripped Jisoo’s scarf off of himself. He examined it carefully, trying to determine whether or not it was possible to get the blood out of the beige fabric. 

Jeonghan rushed to Jisoo’s kitchen sink and set the scarf down on the counter. He crouched down and opened up the cabinet below the sink in search of soap or stain remover. _Baking soda_. Jeonghan grabbed the baking soda from under the sink and got to his feet. He noticed Jisoo’s washing machine build into one of the counters in the corner of his kitchen and grabbed the scarf. He tossed the scarf in the washing machine, along with his coat, and poured nearly a half liter’s worth on top of it. He quickly looked around for laundry detergent in the cabinets above. Finally, Jeonghan spotted a large bottle of value laundry detergent in the cabinet above Jisoo’s washing machine. He poured a generous amount of detergent into the washing machine and prayed that the stains would come out.

Jeonghan sat in front of the washing machine as it spun. He watched the clothes as they were picked up and dropped over and over by the spinning barrel. _I can’t remember anything._ All he could recall was the scream that shocked him out of his dissociated daze. He could hear it still ringing in his ears.

 _Stop_ , he commanded. _Stop screaming. I didn’t do anything_. Jeonghan covered his ears with his hands. _Stop screaming. Please, just stop screaming. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t even me._

Jeonghan thought back to what his doctor told him to do. _Focus on your surroundings. Make your way through it. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._ His doctor used to tell him to let himself get through the episodes instead of battling them. Let the flashbacks pass. Don’t let them take control. Don’t stop breathing. Don’t stop _being_.

Jeonghan kicked the washing machine in a fit of rage, causing it to rattle. Fear became anger. _I was better. This wasn’t supposed to ever happen again. It's happening too soon. I thought I had more time._

Anger became exhaustion. Jeonghan wrapped his arms around his knees. _I can’t do this again. Not again. Please, not again._

 

 

When Jisoo came back home that evening, Jeonghan was asleep on his couch. Jisoo sighed, unsure if Jeonghan had even moved since he’d seen him this morning. He ambled over to the couch and tapped Jeonghan on the foot. “Jeonghan?”

Jeonghan didn’t move. He slept with the pillow held tightly in one arm, the other arm hanging haphazardly off the edge of the couch. 

Jisoo flicked Jeonghan in the ear, causing him to groan in annoyance and roll over so he was facing the back of the couch. 

Jisoo tossed his bag to the side towards his mattress in the corner of the room. “Jeonghan.”

“Hm?” Jeonghan twisted his face around so that he was looking at Jisoo through the side of one eye. “What is it? Is there a fire?”

“Have you been sleeping all day?” Jisoo asked.

“Um… Sort of,” Jeonghan answered, stretching both arms above his head. “The day can only be so eventful when you’re holed up in a tiny place like this. It’s essentially solitary confinement if you think about it.”

“Jeonghan, listen,” Jisoo started, his voice becoming quieter and more serious, “I really need to know what it is you are doing here. I can’t just let it slip by. You understand, right?”

Jeonghan sighed and turned over again to face Jisoo. Still laying down, he answered: “You’re right. I still plan on filling you in on everything.”

“So, we’re going to talk about it?”

Jeonghan scooted up into a sitting position on the couch. “It’s kind of a long story for a night like this.”

Jisoo was quiet for a moment, then spoke up. “I deserve an explanation.” He strived to hold Jeonghan’s gaze as he asserted himself with the declaration. He felt himself channeling his self-appointed personal life coach, Choi Seungcheol. Jeonghan smiled.

“You’re right.” Jeonghan continued to hold eye contact and continued in utmost earnest, “and you’ll get one.”

“You don’t have to tell me the whole story,” Jisoo continued. “Just the parts that would help me understand.”

“Don’t go back on me now, Shua,” Jeonghan teased. “You were so firm. Make your demand. Don’t hedge. Say it like you mean it. You deserve the whole story.”

Jisoo looked down at his feet. Jeonghan threw his pillow at him and it bounced off his face. “Hey!” Jisoo snapped. “What was that for?!”

“That’s the spirit I’m looking for! Let me hear that roar, Shua!” Jeonghan cheered. “Fight me on this!”

“You’re not going to tell me about it tonight, are you?” Jisoo realized, quieting Jeonghan with his straightforwardness.

Jeonghan’s jovial posture withered. “I mean…” Jeonghan hesitated and brushed the back of his hair with the palm of his hand. “Not if… I have a choice.”

Jisoo sighed and picked up the pillow off the ground by his feet. “One more day. If I give you one more day, can you get your story straight?” He tossed Jeonghan the pillow, who caught it with both hands.

Jeonghan wasn’t sure what to say at first. He was honestly surprised that he’d gotten this far. “Yes,” Jeonghan replied. “I promise. Thank you, Shua.”

 

 

Jisoo mindlessly brushed his teeth with the water running. He was too distracted to even notice it. As he brushed his teeth, he looked blankly into the bathroom mirror, not even really registering his own reflection. _He doesn’t deserve one more day_ , Jisoo thought. He knew that’s what Seungcheol would say. But he was different from Seungcheol. 

_Seungcheol. Hoshi. If I’m not going to get anything out of Jeonghan, I should at least call them tonight to let them know he’s here_ , Jisoo decided. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to keep it from them for very long. Besides, part of Jisoo knew he’d feel safer knowing that Seungcheol and Hoshi were in on it as well. 

Jisoo took a deep breath. The idea of breaking the news to them made him nervous for some reason, but he wasn’t sure why. He rinsed his mouth out with water and spit into the sink. Raising his head up, he looked at his reflection in the dirty mirror. _Don’t be stupid about this_ , he told himself silently. _Look after yourself._

As he stared into the mirror, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Jisoo saw his scarf hanging over the shower along with Jeonghan’s coat. They looked like they’d been washed. Jisoo turned around and ambled over to where the clothes were hanging over the curtain rod. _Why did he wash my scarf?_ Jisoo examined the beige scarf. There didn’t seem to be any marks or stains that he could see. _I bet he sneaked out of here and got my scarf all dirty while he was out prancing around town. And he thought I wouldn’t notice._

Jisoo sighed, realizing that he’d have to talk to Jeonghan about the scarf. He didn’t want to, but he knew he should. For the sake of enforcing boundaries, if nothing else. Jisoo turned and walked out of the bathroom. As he walked back into the living room, he opened his mouth to confront Jeonghan. But before he could get the words out, Jisoo realized that Jeonghan had already fallen asleep on the couch. 

_Maybe it’d be better to wait until morning_ , Jisoo thought to himself, thankful that he had an excuse not to confront Jeonghan. Instead, he decided to call Seungcheol.

 

 

Jisoo paced from one side of the kitchen to the other as he waited for Seungcheol to pick up. His legs were restless with anxiety. 

There was a click on the other side of the line. “Hello?”

Jisoo’s breath caught in his throat. He was partly hoping that Seungcheol wouldn’t answer the phone. “Hey, Seungcheol. What are you and Hoshi doing right now?”

“Hoshi is watching a movie and I just got back from cleaning up at the dojo. Why? Did you want to do something?”

“Um…” Jisoo tried to gather his words together into a coherent mass. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you guys about something that happened recently.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Jisoo, is everything okay?”

 _He’s onto me_. Jisoo cursed the tremble in his voice. He couldn’t hide his stress, especially not from Seungcheol. “Yeah, everything is fine. It’s just… about somebody you guys know.”

“Somebody we know?” Seungcheol’s voice was level, and Jisoo knew he was trying to curb the concern in his voice so to not make Jisoo flustered. 

Jisoo took a deep breath. He just had to come out with it. “Listen, a couple of days ago–”

_Crash._

Jisoo jumped at the sound of shattering glass coming fro the other room.

“Jisoo, what was that?” Seungcheol’s voice was harsh with concern. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m– I’m okay,” Jisoo stuttered, too afraid to leave the kitchen to investigate the sound. 

“What was that noise?”

“I’m not sure, but I think–” 

_Crack. Crash._

Jisoo heard Seungcheol shuffling across the floor, calling out to Hoshi, who seemed to be on the other side of the house. 

“Jisoo, stay where you are. I’m coming to get you,” Seungcheol said sternly. Before Jisoo could protest, he heard Seungcheol calling out to Hoshi to dial the cops. 

“No! No, no, don’t call the police,” Jisoo pleaded. “Don’t let Hoshi call the police. I know who it is.”

“Who?” Seungcheol asked, now equally panicked and perplexed. 

“Um…” Jisoo flinched as another crashing sound echoed through the apartment from the living room. “Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jisoo heard Seungcheol sigh deeply from the other end of the line. He heard Seungcheol tell Hoshi to stay ready to dial 911, then turn back to the phone. “I’m coming over,” he said. And without another word, Jisoo heard a click as Seungcheol hung up.

Jisoo groaned and slammed his phone down on the kitchen counter. He ran his hands anxiously through his hair and cursed himself again for not being able to explain everything to Seungcheol. He decided, for Jeonghan’s sake, he had to figure out what was happening before they arrived. Jisoo took a breath and gathered up all his courage. Slowly, he stepped through the kitchen towards the living room and craned his head around to look into the next room.

The coffee table, now overturned onto its side, was missing one of its wooden legs. Jisoo scanned the room and saw Jeonghan sitting at the foot of his mattress. He was holding something in his hands.

Jisoo tiptoed into the room and made his way carefully towards Jeonghan. At first he said nothing. Jeonghan didn’t even seem to notice him. 

“Jeonghan?” Jisoo asked quietly, but Jeonghan did not flinch. Jisoo’s presence still went seemingly undetected as he crouched down a few feet from where Jeonghan was sitting. Jisoo quickly realized that Jeonghan’s hands and arms were covered on blood, and that his palms were covered on jagged gashes and scrapes. 

“Jeonghan, what happened? Jeonghan?” Jeonghan didn’t even lift his head as Jisoo called out to him. Jisoo noticed that he was holding the shattered remains of a picture frame in his hands. _He’s cut himself on the broken glass_ , Jisoo realized. _Did he break it with his bare hands?_

“Hold on, just wait here, okay?” Jisoo stood to his feet and dashed into the kitchen to get a dish rag to clean the blood off of Jeonghan’s hands. As Jisoo rummaged through the drawers in his kitchen, he was frightened by the sound of someone banging on the door to his apartment.

“Jisoo! Can you hear me? Are you all right?” The sound of Seungcheol’s voice reverberated through the door. Jisoo also heard the sound of Hoshi murmuring something to Seungcheol about breaking it down. 

Jisoo dashed to the door and quickly yanked it open before somebody knocked it down from the other side. “Hey, guys,” Jisoo panted, trying to look as calm as possible. “Man, you guys are fast.”

“Jisoo, stay here,” Seungcheol whispered as he slipped through the door and into Jisoo’s kitchen. 

Jisoo whipped around, calling out to Seungcheol before he could get too far. “He didn’t hurt anybody! Just himself,” Jisoo told Seungcheol, who was looking through the doorway into the living room where Jeonghan was still fiddling with the broken picture frame. 

Seungcheol turned around to face Jisoo. “I believe you, don’t worry. But I want to make sure you’re safe,” Seungcheol replied calmly. 

Still standing in Jisoo’s doorway, Hoshi pipped up with a finger in the air. “It should be known that I am also ready to call the cops at any moment,” he chirped. 

Seungcheol walked slowly and softly into the living room, making sure to announce himself quietly as he made his way towards Jeonghan. “Hey, Yoon Jeonghan. Do you remember me?” Seungcheol lingered a few feet away from Jeonghan, giving him some space. “I met you at Boeun a few months ago. You saved my friend Mingyu from drowning. Do you remember?”

When Jeonghan didn’t respond, Seungcheol moved closer. “Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself more,” Seungcheol warned as Jeonghan continued to examine the picture frame. Seungcheol found himself crouching next to the disoriented Yoon Jeonghan and carefully taking the broken picture frame away.

Jeonghan looked up at Seungcheol as he lifted the picture frame from his hands. Face was blank, like a child’s. Seungcheol returned the look with a smile. “Long time no see.”

“Um…” Jeonghan blinked several times, as if trying to reach up out of the fog. He shook his head slightly and held his hands out towards Seungcheol. “Oh yeah… I know you…”

“Yup, you sure do,” Seungcheol replied, taking Jeonghan by the hands so he could start removing glass from his palms. 

Jeonghan looked down at his hands and seemed to only just notice that there was blood dripping down his arms. “What did I…” Jeonghan’s eyes widened and Seungcheol could feel him tense up beside him. “What did I do? Whose blood is this?”

“Whoa whoa, stay still, bud,” Seungcheol replied, trying to calm Jeonghan so he could work.

“Whose blood is this? Where’s Shua? Tell me whose blood this is, please,” Jeonghan pleaded. “Please, tell me he’s okay.”

“Calm down. Jisoo’s fine. He’s in the kitchen,” Seungcheol replied, still carefully trying to pull bits of glass out of Jeonghan’s hand.

Jeonghan let out a long sigh of relief and let his head drop. He closed his eyes tightly to try and blink away tears of panic that had begun to well up in his eyes.

“It isn’t his blood. It’s yours,” Seungcheol clarified. “Here, look.” Seungcheol turned his head to call to Jisoo over his shoulder, telling him that it was okay to come in. Jisoo tiptoed into the living room from the kitchen, clutching a dish rag in both hands. 

Seungcheol waved him over. Jeonghan looked up at Jisoo, examining his body for any signs of injury. “You’re okay… You’re fine. He’s fine,” Jeonghan breathed. 

Still a little shaken up, Jisoo kept a safe distance between himself and Jeonghan. Jeonghan noticed, and it caused his heart to ache. Jisoo may have been fine physically, but the emotional stress that Jeonghan knew he must’ve caused made him feel just as miserable.

Jisoo held out the dish cloth to Seungcheol in order to clean up Jeonghan’s hands. Meanwhile, Hoshi rushed a first aid kit over that he’d found under Jisoo’s sink. Still disoriented, Jeonghan stayed silent as Seungcheol and Hoshi worked on cleaning his hands and bandaging him up. Jisoo stayed close by, ready to get them anything they needed, but he couldn’t bring himself to get too close.

Jisoo noticed that Seungcheol had taken the picture frame and put it on the floor by the coffee table. He crouched down and pulled the picture out of the picture frame, careful to not cut himself on the broken glass. Jisoo sat down on the ground and held the picture up to examine it. 

The picture was of Jisoo and his mother in their old house. Jisoo kept that picture on the coffee table because he liked how happy they both looked. He was maybe only 13 or 14 in the picture, sitting on the carpeted floor of his childhood home. He was seated next to that same coffee table that was now laying broken on its side, back before his mother insisted that he take it to put in his own apartment. The coffee table was covered in playing cards, and he was holding some in his hands, smiling at the camera. His mother was hovering further behind wearing a skirt and sweater that she always wore when it got cold. She looked like she was watering a plant that sat on a counter that separated the living room and the dining room. She seemed happy too.


	5. I Can't Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeonghan and Seungcheol have a talk.

Jisoo, Seungcheol, Hoshi, and Jeonghan all walked back quietly from the ER, Jeonghan’s hand now wrapped up in bandages. Seungcheol walked warily between Jisoo and Jeonghan, which made both of them feel awkward, which didn’t faze Seungcheol. Hoshi walked beside Jeonghan, itching with the need to fill the tense silence with conversation, but unsure where to start. Occasionally, he would glance over at Seungcheol, whose serious forward-gaze would not falter.

When they finally reached Jisoo’s house, they all hesitated. Jeonghan is not sure if he should assume that he will be allowed in Jisoo’s house again, so he waited for someone else to make a move before he did. 

Finally, breaking the silence, Seungcheol spoke: “Jeonghan, you should stay at the dojo tonight.”

Hoshi stared at Seungcheol, his expression betraying all of the anxiety his felt about letting Jeonghan into their home, let alone their _dojo_. Seungcheol both noticed and anticipated Hoshi’s reaction and answered it before Hoshi even had time to speak up. “Hosh, you stay with Jisoo and I’ll stay with Jeonghan. Jisoo shouldn’t be alone tonight either.”

Jisoo looked up at Seungcheol. “I’m fine. Hoshi doesn’t have to stay with me. It’s okay.”

Hoshi shook his head furiously, hasty to hold on to the excuse to not spend the night so close to Yoon Jeonghan. “No, no, I don’t mind! It’s been a rough night for you guys, right Jisoo? This is what friends are for,” he said quickly, before Jisoo could change his mind.

“Hoshi’s right,” Seungcheol added. “Besides, he can help you clean up your living room.” 

Hoshi shot a warning glance at Seungcheol, who retaliated with a cheeky glint in his eyes. 

Jisoo finally agreed to let Hoshi come and spend the night at his house while Jeonghan stayed with Seungcheol at their place. As they were saying their goodbyes, Hoshi leaned in to whisper something to his roommate, not quite as conspicuously as he would’ve liked to be. 

“Don’t die,” Hoshi whispered, causing Seungcheol to laugh a little and put a hand on Hoshi’s shoulder. 

“I can take him,” Seungcheol replied quietly, patting Hoshi’s shoulder reassuringly.

 

 

Jeonghan was tense as he followed Seungcheol into the studio-dojo where he and Hoshi held their dance and taekwondo classes. The two of them headed back into a small lounge area where the teachers could rest and chat between classes. It was Hoshi’s idea to utilize the space in that way, and it had been put to good use ever since. 

Seungcheol didn’t say a word, and neither did Jeonghan. He just stared at the back of Seungcheol’s head, wondering what kind of conversation they were going to have once they were settled again. 

They were only inside for a few moments before Seungcheol piped up: “Let’s just take this one step at a time, Yoon Jeonghan.”

_What does that even mean?_ Jeonghan asked himself as he stood rigid in the center of Seungcheol’s dojo. “What’s step one?” Jeonghan asked.

“I mean,” Seungcheol replied, “you could start with sitting down and taking some deep breaths.”

Jeonghan suddenly became acutely aware of how tense he must’ve looked–hands in his pockets, eyes, wide, shoulders slumped. Jeonghan took his hands out of his jacket pockets and wiggled his fingers a little to try and shake of some of his anxiety. His goal was to look as non-threatening as humanly possible. 

The only furniture that Seungcheol and Hoshi had in the room were a couch, a short coffee table, a mini-fridge, and a wooden chair sitting in the corner of the room. Once Jeonghan was seated on the couch, he watched Seungcheol rummage quietly through the mini fridge and pull out two water bottles–one for Jeonghan and one for himself. 

Jeonghan quickly took the cup from Seungcheol, bowing a little and muttering a shy “thank you” to be extra polite. _I wonder if he’s trying to poison me_ , Jeonghan thought to himself. 

After putting his own water down on the coffee table, Seungcheol wandered over to the wooden chair. Jeonghan quickly switched their waters while Seungcheol wasn’t looking. _Just in case_ , Jeonghan thought. Seungcheol brought the chair over and set it down adjacent to the couch and the coffee table. He picked up his water from the coffee table and sat down like an old man sits in his longer after a long day at work. 

“Won’t your students be alarmed if they see a strange person sleeping in the back room of your dojo?” Jeonghan asked curiously.

“The kids are off school for Chuseok this week, so you should be fine,” Seungcheol replied. 

“Does that mean that Minghao and Mingyu are coming back into town this week?” Jeonghan inferred. 

“I think Minghao is meeting his family in Shanghai for the week and Mingyu is camping with a bunch of guys because he’s a frat boy in disguise,” said Seungcheol. 

Jeonghan sighed. “That’s a shame. I was just beginning to miss those boys.”

“Okay, let’s talk through this,” Seungcheol finally said, his tone and posture very non-threatening. 

Jeonghan nervously tapped his water glass with his thumbs. “Where do you um… Where do you want me to start?”

“What brings you back to Seoul?” Seungcheol asked casually. “Is something going on that involves Jisoo?”

“It’s a little bit difficult to explain,” Jeonghan said timidly, unsure how Seungcheol would respond to him pushing back against telling Seungcheol the whole story. 

Seungcheol nodded a little and looked down at his own glass, clearly thinking about Jeonghan’s words. “Does Jisoo know why you’re here?” Seungcheol asked, looking back up at Jeonghan.

Jeonghan hesitated for a moment then shook his head, to which Seungcheol nodded understandingly. 

“Listen, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol started, “we aren’t your enemies. We just care about Jisoo–just like you. Anything you say in here is between you and me. The only reason I have to tell anybody anything you tell me is if it means keeping someone safe. Do you understand?” 

Jeonghan nodded again, his eyes falling off Seungcheol and onto his hands. 

“What have you been doing since Boeun?” Seungcheol asked.

“Just traveling,” Jeonghan replied. “Really. I mean… I went to the doctor. I have a… a brain thing.”

“You have a _brain thing_?” Seungcheol repeated, making sure that he was understanding Jeonghan correctly.

“It’s like a…” Jeonghan’s eyes shifted all around the room as he thought about how to explain. “It’s like schizophrenia? I mean, they don’t have a name for it, but it’s kind of like that. It’s like… Do you know what a dissociative fugue is?”

“I know what a dissociative fugue is,” Seungcheol answered.

“I get those sometimes,” Jeonghan said, quickly following up to clarify. “I mean, not all the time… Just sometimes…”

“Was that what happened tonight?” Seungcheol asked, leaning forward with his elbow on his knees. 

“I guess,” Jeonghan replied. “I mean, I’m not really ‘all there’ when it happens, but I guess it’s all the same.”

Seungcheol told him that he’d bloodied up one of Jisoo’s favorite pictures, and Jeonghan asked what the picture was. Jeonghan recognized the picture immediately when Seungcheol described it to him.

“It was Jisoo and his mom. It looked like an old picture. Jisoo was sitting on the floor playing solitaire or something,” Seungcheol explained.

“Oh, I know that picture,” said Jeonghan. “I noticed it earlier today. I took that picture.”

Jeonghan described the day nearly a decade ago when he took the picture. He and Jisoo must’ve been 13 or 14. That day, Jeonghan had come back home with him to spend the weekend one day in summer. The two of them had been playing cards, and Jeonghan had been taking pictures all day with a cheap new Polaroid camera that he’d bought from a pawn shop. He wanted to take a picture of Jisoo and his mother and give it to them.

“Is that why you broke the picture frame?”

“Maybe,” Jeonghan answered. “It’s all a little foggy. It may have been an emotional response.”

“A pretty violent emotional response,” Seungcheol commented, quieting Jeonghan a little. 

But Jeonghan continued. “I kept traveling after I saw the doctor. He gave me some medication and sent me on my way, and I didn’t really know what to do next. So I went everywhere. After disconnecting from Wonwoo’s web after what happened in Boeun, I didn’t really have anywhere to stay once I got done traveling. So, I decided to come here.”

“If you have medication, why did you still have an episode tonight?” Seungcheol inquired. 

“I mean, the medication isn’t perfect,” Jeonghan shot back cheekily. He shrugged and told Seungcheol, “Everybody has their relapses.” 

Seungcheol gritted his teeth. “Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan stopped. Seungcheol’s voice had deepened. He didn’t sound quite as forgiving this time. 

“I want to make something clear,” Seungcheol started, trying to keep his voice level. “The second that you stop taking this seriously is the moment you put Jisoo at risk, do you understand? You smashed a picture frame. You broke his coffee table. You lost control tonight, Jeonghan. For Jisoo’s sake, you cannot start taking this lightly, do you understand?”

“I won’t,” Jeonghan replied, somewhat defensive. “I understand my sickness more than anybody. I promise you that.”

“I know you do. So remember what you’re capable of, okay?” Seungcheol picked up his water glass and stood up from the chair. “And don’t forget what you’ve put him through.”

Jeonghan was quiet for a moment as he absorbed Seungcheol’s words. Finally, Jeonghan replied in a solemn voice. “I won’t forget,” he said with a twinge of something in his voice that Seungcheol couldn’t quite identify. And with the final exchange of words, Seungcheol walked out of the back room. “There are blankets in the filing cabinets,” Seungcheol called as he left the dojo, leaving Jeonghan to his own devices. 

Jeonghan kept staring at the floor long after he heard the door to the dojo close behind Seungcheol. Keeping so many secrets had left Jeonghan somewhat exhausted. 

_I can’t forget_ , Jeonghan thought to himself as he stared at the space between the floor tiles. The words were seared into his mind. They colored every move he made since he arrived in Seoul. Over and over again Jeonghan marred himself with the three words. He held onto them like hot coals in his bare hands. And he used them to make sure that he wouldn’t give up on what he’d come to Seoul to do. After all, outside of this, there was nothing else for him now.

He repeated the words. _I can’t forget_.


End file.
